The Adventure of the Red Shoes
by Dying Egg-Laying-Mammal
Summary: (in which Reigen is cursed) A nebulous few years in the future, when people can hang out without anything terrible happening and there aren't any beatings or feuds or broccoli, a mysterious box shows up on the stoop of Spirits and Such. /minor manga spoilers for DT, and a certain character from the WD arc makes an appearance/


"Shishou, a package."

Reigen thumped his chair back down to four legs and removed the pencil from his upper lip. A package? He hadn't ordered anything. And it hadn't been there when he got in that morning.

Mob brought it over to his desk. The cardboard box wasn't very big, about the size of a shoebox, and the way Mob was holding it it couldn't be very heavy either. It didn't have a shipping label, but "Spirits and Such Consultation Office" was scrawled on the side in marker. There was no return address.

Mob gingerly balanced the package on the tips of his fingers while he waited for Reigen to dig out a pair of scissors. The scissors were dull, with bulky orange handles cracked from age, but they were still sharp enough to slit tape. Mob slid the box onto the desk so Reigen could open it, and hovered while Reigen inspected the contents.

It was a pair of shoes. Shiny red dress shoes made of patent leather, that immediately and completely captured Reigen's attention. They were frighteningly glossy; he couldn't drag his eyes away. He reached into the box as if compelled.

"They're so..." he said. Just as his hand closed around one of the shoes Mob took a step forward.

"Shishou, wait. Those shoes—"

"Tacky, right?" Reigen said, holding one up. "Absolutely horrible. Probably the gaudiest things I've ever seen." He opened his hand to drop it back in the box but the shoe didn't fall. It was stuck to his palm.

"They're cursed," Mob said, tugging the box a bit closer to his side of the desk. He was careful not to touch the other shoe as he reached inside.

"There's a note."

"How interesting," Reigen said, shaking his hand wildly in an attempt to dislodge the shoe. "What does it say?"

"I'll read it," Mob said.

"Good idea, good idea. We should hear it straight from the source," Reigen said, trying to pry off the shoe with a ruler from his desk.

"'Dear Psychic, these are for you. Someone traded them in at my shop the other day and I'm pretty sure they're haunted or something. They sneak into my house at night to watch me sleep. I've never caught them in the act but in the mornings there are footprints all over the place. Anyway, please take care of them. There's payment in the box.'

"What a strange person," Mob said, once he finished reading the note.

"There's all sorts of people in the world, Mob. And some of them like to leave their garbage on other people's doorsteps."

Reigen braced both feet against the shoe to try and yank it off and fell out of his chair.

He didn't manage to catch himself on the desk as he went down, but he did hook the toe of the shoe on the edge of the box, which went flying. It curved in a high arc, almost straight up, before spinning and spilling the second shoe, a few 100 yen coins, and some tissue paper into the air.

The coins hit the ground and bounced away into the filthy terra incognita behind the radiator. The other shoe smacked him heavily in the face. He almost blinded himself with the aglets of its dark scarlet laces as he rolled to avoid the box. When he didn't hear anything hit the ground behind him, Reigen peeked over his shoulder and found it hovering a foot above his head, wreathed in a glimmering kaleidoscope of power.

The tissue paper wafted gently back to the desk and settled over some of Reigen's neglected paperwork.

"Oi, Mob," Reigen said resentfully from the ground, "why didn't you catch the shoe, too? Or me?"

"Sorry Shishou," Mob said evenly, "but like I said, it's cursed."

Reigen sighed thoughtfully. It came out as more of a huff.

"Well," he said, "I guess if even my phenomenal powers can't resist this curse then I can't expect anything else."

He sat up and noticed that the other shoe was now stuck to his face. The laces dangled obnoxiously over his left eye, so he tucked them behind his ear.

"At least they're clean," he muttered, bracing his hands to get up. The one with a shoe stuck to it skidded out from under him. He tipped over and his head bounced off the corner of the chair, but the shoe on his face protected him. Handy. But no points for the rescue since the damn thing caused his fall in the first place.

Reigen made it upright and leaned his free hand on the desk, propping the other one with its shoe on his hip and tilting his head so he could see Mob with both eyes unimpeded by footwear. Mob gazed back at him, his face solemn except for the faint sparkle of his eyes.

"This is serious, Mob."

"Yes."

"We've got to solve this right away, there's no way I can live like this." He waved the shoe for emphasis.

"Yes."

"So quit laughing at me and help, rotten kid."

"Of course, Shishou," Mob said, reaching for him across the desk.

Reigen jerked back, holding up his free hand as a ward.

"Ah, wait, maybe not like that. Don't want you to get stuck too, then we'd both be in trouble."

"Don't worry, Shishou. The curse is entirely locked onto you now."

"Is that supposed to make me feel better?" Reigen muttered.

"If I can interfere with the shoe's spiritual energy, I might be able to free you. But there's a barrier. I can't do anything without touching it."

"And it's safe for you?"

"I think so, Shishou."

"Geez. You think, you might, maybe maybe maybe. Curses are tricky stuff, Mob, you can't just go rushing in."

"I know, Shishou. Please, let me try."

Reigen considered the boy in front of him, so much taller than when they first met. Mob was shining with earnest care and the desire to help. Reigen sighed in defeat and leaned back in so Mob could reach his face.

"Thank you, Shishou."

"Yeah yeah, get on with it already. And if this backfires, I'll say I told you so."

Mob raised a hand to the shoe and his eyelids drooped a bit as he concentrated on an inner world Reigen was barred from. Nothing happened, and continued to not happen for a little while, before Mob straightened out of his trance and returned his arm to his side.

"Well?" Reigen asked.

Mob tugged at his hair and shrugged.

Reigen stared at him, eyes narrow, then sighed for a third time.

"So. I guess this is my life now. Forced to live out the rest of my days covered in ugly shoes. An ignoble end for the greatest psychic of the twenty-first century. Bested by brogues. Overpowered by oxfords. Languishing under these loathsome loafers."

Reigen was actually starting to get into his alliterative list of ailments—defeated by dress shoes, ha, another one—, but Mob seemed to want to say something.

"Maybe if we both pull?" Mob suggested.

"It's worth a shot, I guess," Reigen said.

They tried the shoe on his hand first, but it was slippery, the leather warm from Reigen's sweaty grasp. Mob's fingers slid right off and they both stumbled back a few steps. Reigen almost went through the window. He elected to move their operation out from the corner of the room and over to by the couch, where at least if he fell over again he would have a soft landing.

Next, Mob pulled at the shoe on his face. It wasn't any more effective, but Mob had a much better grip. When the stretch turned painful, Reigen reached up, intending to adjust or remove Mob's hands. As he did, he brushed the shoe and a sudden lack of resistance let Mob ram both shoe and Reigen's arm down in a violently unexpected movement.

Reigen's hand struck the internal frame of the couch so hard the cushions hopped. A muffled clang echoed around the room.

"G— Good muscles," Reigen wheezed as he slowly collapsed over his newly injured hand, and then, "Hhhhh-"

The whiplash had staggered them both, but though Reigen sagged onto the couch Mob was still on his feet. The kid blinked a few times in shock at the abrupt shift. Still, he recovered before Reigen did and trotted off. How callous.

Mob crouched down across the room, in front of the office's minifridge, then rose with full hands. Ah. He was thoughtfully fetching his master an ice pack. What a good student.

Reigen had uncurled a little on the couch when Mob got back. Though the throbbing of his knuckles made him hiss, the feel of a shoe in each hand felt like victory.

"Shishou. Are you okay?" Mob asked, coming at him with the ice pack and a doleful air.

He began to dress Reigen's hand as best he could around the shoe, but Reigen stopped him.

"Wait a second, I figured something out," he said. He held his good hand palm down and let the second shoe rest on the back of it. When he lifted his bad hand away the shoe stayed where he put it, and he tipped the hand sandwich back and forth, showing it off.

"Tada. Doublesided," Reigen said, and offered Mob his injured—free! **—** hand to wrap in the ice pack.

"Oh. So, it only sticks to your skin?"

"Seems so, eh Mob?"

They lapsed into silence as Mob worked, one pensive, the other pained but pleased. When Mob was done, he didn't quite relinquish Reigen's hand, laying it down next to his knee on the couch.

Reigen had been experimenting with the shoes, sliding them like magnets on a fridge over his bits of exposed skin, but looked up when he sensed Mob's charged attention. Mob's hands were folded tightly in his lap. The sight made him want to frown, but he suppressed the furrow of his brow and put on an affectionate smile instead. It wasn't hard, even with this afternoon's fiasco.

"I'm sorry, Shishou."

"Sorry for what, you didn't curse me. I don't know who _did_ but I'm at least pretty sure it wasn't you. Though I haven't pissed off any pawnbrokers lately either, as far as I know, so who knows."

"It's not that. Earlier, too…" he trailed off.

"What? Earlier?"

"I didn't catch the shoe."

"Pff, don't worry about that. Even the astronomical might of my own spiritual abilities weren't enough, so of course you couldn't do anything."

"...Your eye is swelling."

"Eh?" Reigen reached up to prod at his eye socket and sure enough it throbbed. It must have been hidden by the shoe before. Maybe seeing it was what prompted this little crisis of faith.

Mob picked up a cold can of soda Reigen hadn't noticed from the table. He held it up. Reigen looked at his swaddled hands and tried to figure out how he was going to hold it. Maybe if he pinched it against his shoulder? But his neck would get tired. Could he wedge it in the mouth of the shoe?

Mob gently brought it closer, and when Reigen cocked his head Mob pressed it to his eye and held it there. Oh. Of course.

Chilly, hard, and damp, it wasn't the most soothing thing in the world, but there was only one ice pack so Reigen appreciated the thought. It did help, a little, though the rim was poking him in the eyebrow.

"I'm sorry," Mob said again, staring down at the iced hand that was slowly leaking meltwater into the couch.

"Listen, Mob. Those were accidents. It wasn't your fault."

"I hurt you."

"Don't get too full of yourself. You were helping me, because I asked you to. You don't control the world, Mob, just like everyone else, even if you do have psychic powers. And you're not in charge of me, either. I'm an adult and I make my own decisions about what risks to take and what cursed objects to touch. And if it doesn't work out, that's on me. Every person must deal with the consequences of their own choices and actions; this is called personal responsibility."

Reigen felt that some of the impact of his speech was lost because of the can, but Mob looked a little less dour once he was done, though most people wouldn't notice the difference. The art of Mob-reading was one honed by long hours and years in his company, and by now Reigen was pretty good at it.

"I can't help anyone like this, so how about we close up the office for the day?" he offered, "We can regroup later." Also, he was tired and sore, and they were out of headache medicine at the office.

"But, your hands," Mob said.

"Hold on," Reigen said, and turned away so Mob could only see his back. He tugged the front of his shirt out of his pants. It took him a few tries to get the movement right, but he got the shoes to adhere to the exposed skin of his stomach instead of his hand. The trick was to move only his hand, keeping the new host area still during the transfer. Or maybe it was something about surface area? Reigen left those questions for later as he tucked his shirt back in. He turned back to Mob.

"What do you think? Definitely better, right?"

Mob looked at the untidily tucked shirt, and gave his opinion:

"It looks weird."

"Hey, it's not that bad," Reigen said on reflex. Then he looked down at himself.

Now that he was sitting up, an elbow propped on the back of the couch, his shirt was drawn tight over the shoes. Mob was right, it looked weird. Their bright colour was visible through the thin fabric of his buttondown, and his midsection was all lumpy, from the shoes themselves and also from his rucked up undershirt. The combination resembled a tumour, or a parasite hiding under his clothes.

So, not as subtle as he'd hoped. Oh well. Reigen shrugged off his suit jacket and stood up, folding it over his arm. He held the draped cloth in front of him as a shield, and tilted his head at Mob in question. Mob titled his own head in inspection, and then raised a hand and tilted that too in a 'so-so' gesture.

It would have to do. It was summer; maybe Reigen could pass for being overwarm instead of the victim of cursed footwear.

"Do you mind coming in tomorrow?" he asked Mob, setting down the jacket and removing the ice pack. Tomorrow was the weekend, and though Reigen was already extremely done with shoes he didn't want to discourage Mob if he had plans.

"Tomorrow is fine, Shisou," Mob said, taking the lukewarm ice pack and the can of off-brand soda to put back in the fridge.

Reigen gathered his things so they could go, and Mob picked up his unopened bag from where it sat near the door. They left the box and the note. When they were ready, Reigen locked up the office and they went their separate ways.

* * *

The next morning, Reigen woke up to find the shoes had migrated in the night.

When he'd eventually fallen asleep, after much tossing and turning to accommodate the shoes in his bed, one had been in the small of his back, and the other on the outside of his shoulder.

Now they were both a good way down his thighs, one halfway onto his knee and stretching out his sweatpants. Which meant they had somehow navigated under an elastic waistband while he was unconscious. A worrying development.

Reigen hiked up his cuffs and plucked them off. They didn't look any different from the day before. Still shiny, still unscuffed. The laces still had glitter in the weave, and sparkled as Reigen relocated the shoes to his bare back.

When he'd gotten home yesterday, he'd experimented and started a list of the curse's rules. The shoes would stick to any area of skin at least a few inches wide. Any part of the shoe would stick except the laces, including the inside of the tongue. The laces could be unlaced, but not removed from the last set of eyelets, and they would relace if he looked away. The shoes resisted damage from knives, scissors, needles, rocks, water, fire, salt, sweat, talismans, incense, tea, cursing, walls, the floor, the counter, and his bare hands.

He put a question mark next to his newest entry: _Shoes move at night. They want to be worn?_ After a moment of reflection, he added another word. _Creepy._

While he was testing the shoes, he'd also tried out different ways to carry them. Last night he'd preferred to have the shoes rest over his kidneys, under his shirt, but now he wanted them as far away from his feet as possible.

The best he came up with was to have them ride like backpack straps high on his shoulder blades. The toes peeked jauntily over his shoulders, but they didn't impede his movement or get in the way, and they were easy to reach in a pinch.

Since he didn't plan to take any clients today, he dressed for convenience instead of respectability. He gathered and fastened the straps of a loose tank top behind his neck so they draped down his spine. The gaping back left plenty of room for his passengers, but it was a bit indecent, so Reigen dug out an old Hawaiian shirt. It was a touch too big, but it had been a gift. Lucky for him, the slightly stiff garment hid the shape of the shoes so he could go out in public. He left it unbuttoned; the extra slack would help his camouflage.

The result was kind of beachy, but what the hell, it was the weekend. He put on shorts.

Mob wasn't there when he got to the office, so Reigen put his iced coffee down on the coffee table and booted up his laptop.

With practice, dealing with the shoes was getting easier. Reigen sat sideways on the couch so the arm could support his back without crushing them, and looked up 'curse red shoes'. Mostly the results were fairy tales, but there was one horror movie that looked sort of interesting. Reigen watched the trailer. He was still freaked out when Mob showed up.

Startled by the door, Reigen twisted around and the laptop slid off his lap. He lunged awkwardly to catch it.

When he looked up again he found not just Mob but Ritsu in the doorway. Then Mob and his brother came in, revealing Hanazawa behind them.

"Uh, Mob," Reigen said, "I thought you didn't have plans today."

"No, I did. So I brought Ritsu and Teru-kun with me."

"And what were you going to do today?"

"Buy clothes. Teru-kun wanted to take me."

Reigen flashed back to all the truly horrendous clothes Mob and Hanazawa had come up with over the years. In a rare moment of rapport he made eye contact with Ritsu, who nodded slowly.

"I'm the chaperone," Ritsu said.

"So," Hanazawa said, a hand on his hip, "is this going to take long?"

"I don't know," Reigen said, reaching over his shoulder to grab a shoe, "You tell me."

Hanazawa appraised the shoe.

"Well, it's stylish, but I think they're too big for me," he said, looking over the rims of his sunglasses, "Why were you keeping it in your shirt?"

Reigen opened his hand and and flapped it around in answer. The shoe remained stuck to his palm.

"Hmm," Hanazawa said, shifting all his weight to one foot. His thumb came up to his lip in contemplation.

Mob clasped his hands in front of him as they waited. Ritsu lurked behind his brother, failing to suppress a smirk. Reigen pulled one leg up on the couch and left the shoe on his calf so he could dig out his cellphone.

They had silently voted Hanazawa 'most likely to figure this shit out'. He had a singular talent for retaining and assimilating a diverse variety of psychic techniques, which might help him recognize the curse. The others let him think.

Reigen checked to see if he had any texts from Serizawa in the meantime, but there was nothing. Which made sense, since Serizawa was on a nature retreat with some of his friends. It was also a kind of reunion for him since they were all former classmates from his school. Reigen hoped he was having fun. If all went well, the shoes would be gone when he got back. Maybe they could laugh about it.

Hanazawa hummed a little and took off his heinous sunglasses to get a better look at the shoe. Reigen stretched his leg onto the coffee table helpfully, his foot hanging off the edge.

Ritsu stepped forward too. His face was neutral now that Mob could see him, but his lips still twitched when he looked at Reigen.

"Where's the other one?" Ritsu asked.

Reigen fetched it and held it out.

Ritsu put his hand up to touch, but stopped himself, glancing back at Mob.

"We think it's fine," Reigen said, "Mob touched them yesterday and nothing happened, so knock yourself out."

"Did you know nothing would happen when you let Nii-san touch these?" Ritsu asked suspiciously.

Reigen made eye contact with Mob when he said, "It was his idea. He knew what he was doing."

"It's true, Ritsu," Mob said with a nod, "I decided myself."

Ritsu accepted the answer and turned back to start tugging on the shoe. Reigen tensed his arm so Ritsu would have some leverage. Hanazawa was crouched by the table, inspecting the other shoe from an inch away. He held up a finger, almost touching it, and Reigen imagined a spark leapt between them.

Neither of them made any progress using finesse, so they both took turns trying to zap the shoes off. Reigen started to sweat when Ritsu tried to use excessive force, but Mob stepped in. That kid… Yeesh. Hanazawa was thankfully more restrained.

After a few minutes they gave up on brute force too. Reigen's hair stood up with static, but he remained plastered with shoes.

An interesting fact about psychics is that they're always grounded, electrically anyway, when they haven't been using their powers. Reigen beckoned Mob over and poked him with his unoccupied hand until his hair went down.

He looked up at the semicircle of teenagers surrounding him and wondered if he should be concerned. Three—two and a half if he was being petty, but he'd leave that to Ritsu—very powerful psychics were stumped.

"I think it's time for the last resort," he said.

"I understand," Hanazawa replied, and gestured with his hand. Something flew over from the tiny kitchen area and another motion stilled it to hover in midair. It was a knife.

"Ah! What the hell, put that down!" Reigen said, clutching his shod hand protectively to his chest. He drew back his leg for good measure as Mob stepped protectively in front of him to back him up.

"Teru-kun, I don't think that's what he meant."

"Really, that's a little much," Ritsu said, crossing his hypocritical arms.

"Do you have any other ideas?" Hanazawa asked with a raised eyebrow, _way_ too matter-of-fact.

"I meant putting them on!" Reigen said, incredulous. "Now drop the knife!"

Hanazawa considered that for a moment, and then with a flick of his fingers the knife was back in its drawer.

"You should have said so," he said, unconcerned with his faux pas. He sat on the couch and crossed his legs, as if he hadn't just menaced a man with a flaying or worse. Reigen casually slid all the way to the end of the couch.

"I messed around with the shoes last night, but nothing I tried affected them," Reigen began.

"Like what?" Ritsu asked.

Reigen slid the shoe up his arm so he could dig out his list and hand it over.

"Lots of stuff. And they're shoes, right? So trying them on is probably our best bet, but they're enough trouble now and I'm not even wearing them. And what happens when they get what they want? What if they eat my feet?"

"What did you think tea was going to do? Was it blessed?" Ritsu asked.

"No, I spilled it because it was too hot. Almost every story I've found about magic shoes ends really badly for the person wearing them. Nine out of ten, at least. There's only one that isn't a tragedy, and I'm not much of a Cinderella."

"The shoes move?" Hanazawa asked, nose crinkled as he stood to read the list with Ritsu.

"I think they're like snails. I mean, they don't leave a trail," he gestured at their high finish, smooth and pristine as ever, "but if you give them enough time, they can crawl around."

He shuddered and relocated the shoe from his leg to its place on his back.

"There's all these bloody fairy tales and horror stories about shoes, and they all say putting them on just makes things worse. What if it kills me? There's a story like that, this little girl puts on some shoes she got from her stepmother and just keels right over. It's not reassuring."

"So you didn't try them on?" Mob asked, leaning over Ritsu's shoulder to read the list.

"No," Reigen said, "I didn't even put my hands in them in case they bit off my fingers."

All three of them were clustered around the list now. Well, maybe they'd find something he hadn't.

"Does cursing a curse even work?" Ritsu asked.

"I don't know, it depends. But it certainly sounds… recursive," Hanazawa said, and was rewarded by one of Mob's teeny smiles.

"Why did he think that would work?" Ritsu asked, "He can't even uncurse things normally, if anything that would make it worse."

"Ah, no, Ritsu. I think Shishou meant swearing. Like 'damn'," Mob said.

"Just damn?" Hanazawa asked.

"Fuck," Mob said, staring at him. Hanazawa grinned.

Ritsu glared at Hanazawa. He crumpled the list in his hand and held it up to Reigen.

"Useless," he pronounced.

"Oi, Mob's brother, that's a little harsh," Reigen said.

"He's right though, Reigen-san, there's nothing here that'll help us beat this curse," Hanazawa said.

"Well, what about the note, then?' Reigen asked.

"What note?" Hanazawa replied.

"The note! The note that came with the shoes. It's probably still with the box; over there, on my desk," Reigen said, pointing.

Three hands came up, but Reigen couldn't tell which of them levitated the discarded packaging over to the coffee table.

"You didn't think to mention this before?" Ritsu asked peevishly.

"In case you didn't notice, you all kind of took me by surprise! Mob knew about it, isn't that good enough?" Reigen said, "Besides, I don't think it'll be very helpful. There's a thousand pawn shops and second-hand stores around here because the rent is so cheap, and no way of telling which one we're looking for."

"Well, for starters, it's upscale," Hanazawa said, hip cocked, "For this neighbourhood, anyway. There's tissue paper, that didn't seem odd to you?"

"Shoes always have— hmm. Alright, fair point," Reigen said, "So we're looking for an _upscale_ pawn shop. Anything else, super sleuth?"

"This box says 'Healthy Seasoning Convenience Store'," Ritsu cut in.

"What? Where?" Reigen asked.

Ritsu flipped up the flaps in the bottom of the box. Their undersides were printed with thick black words and a cheery little logo of a lobster man. It was bisected, but it did indeed say convenience store.

"A clue," Mob said, "Good job, Ritsu."

"Do you know it?" Hanazawa asked.

"Yes. Shishou and I avoid it when we're walking because he's afraid of their mascot."

"Wh- Hey! I'm not _afraid_ , they're just really pushy about attracting customers over there. If I wanted someone to force feed me and ask about money, I'd visit my mother. That realistic lobster costume has nothing to do with it," Reigen said. It was a lie. The half man half shellfish mascot disturbed him deeply.

"I think it's a crab, actually," Hanazawa said, squinting at the little illustration, "Look, no antennae."

"Oh, you're right," Mob said.

"How sad," Ritsu said, with a disappointed shake of his head, "A grown man that can't tell the difference between a lobster and a crab. I wonder if he can even cook for himself."

No respect. Reigen got up and walked away from the sassy children to throw out his empty coffee cup.

As he dropped it into the garbage, he noticed a blobby pile of something green on the floor by his right foot. It twisted, and one of Dimple's eyes phased through the floor, then a corner of his mouth.

"Hey, Reigen!" Dimple hissed, "What are all those brats doing here? I want to talk to Shigeo."

"What are _you_ doing?" Reigen asked, "He's right over there, tell him yourself."

Dimple's visible eye darted evasively. "It's private," he hissed.

"Ha!" Reigen laughed. The sound was loud; it attracted the kids' attention. The jig was up. Dimple rose into the air with a glare, and a disembodied finger flicked Reigen's forehead.

"Ouch," Reigen said flatly, rubbing the spot with his middle finger. He lowered his hand when the kids tromped over.

"Oh, Dimple," Mob said, "Are you here to help?"

"Haa? Help with what?" Dimple asked.

"Shishou has been cursed," Mob said.

Dimple's face slid around until he was looking at Reigen again.

"Oh really?" he asked, smiling broadly. Eat shit, Dimple.

"And what seems to be the problem with our dear Reigen-san?"

Mob filled him in while Ritsu stood nearby. Hanazawa took a few steps back to stand near Reigen, arms crossed. They leaned against the wall companionably. It had been a while since they'd seen each other. Reigen used the opportunity to ask something he'd always sort of wondered about.

"So, what do you use to dye your hair?"

Hanazawa scoffed. "What do you?"

Reigen shut up.

Mob had finished bringing Dimple up to speed, anyway. The spirit lazily rolled through the air from the force of his laughter at Reigen's misfortune. He was even wheezing a little, which didn't make sense since he didn't have lungs. Dimple was probably putting it on just to mock him. Tch.

Reigen's revenge would be vicariously achieved. Mob reached out and snagged Dimple by his trail, and reeled him in until the spirit was between his hands. His bangs shadowed his eyes as he looked down at his catch.

"Dimple," he said darkly, "This is serious. Shishou has been cursed. We need to help him."

"Right. Got it," Dimple said with a confident and determined face. He held out a thumbs up. Mob let him go.

Dimple floated high, looking down at them from above their heads.

"I'll help, Shigeo, but not for free. How about you owe me one, and we'll square it later, okay? One-on-one," he said. Daringly opportunistic once out of reach, but Reigen wasn't worried. Mob could handle himself.

Mob just stared at him and turned to the door.

"Let's go," he said, mild again, "It's not far to the convenience store."

Reigen looked at Hanazawa, who shrugged and pushed off from the wall. He glanced over at Ritsu and Dimple; they were already moving. He put the shoe on his forearm back on his back with its fellow and joined the herd.

Obediently, they followed, and the whole procession made its way out of the office and into the world: one man, one spirit, three kids, and five pairs of shoes.

* * *

They made it outside without incident. Reigen was pleasantly surprised.

The walk to Healthy Seasoning Convenience Store went without a hitch too, until they got there. Reigen was not surprised to see the gross mascot. They were due a setback.

Creepy as ever, it stood guard outside the store's automatic doors. The upper half of the costume was crustaceous. The bottom half was two unarticulated pink tubes. They barely resembled human legs. Puffy and flesh-like, they emerged from white briefs and a complete absence of pants.

Reigen stopped them half a block away. He positioned the group so that a bus shelter and some trees screened them from the mass of fake chitin and foam.

"Alright, we'll fan out from here," he said, "There can't be that many pawn shops, if we start nearby and work our way out we're bound to find it."

"But the store's right there," Mob said, "Why don't we ask them?"

"Because Reigen's afraid of the big bad seafood," Dimple said.

"Irrelevant if true," Reigen snapped out, "And how do you know about that, you weren't even there."

"Yes I was," Dimple replied, "I was waiting to make my entrance, so I heard all about how much of a chicken you are."

"You were listening?" Reigen asked, discomfited. He considered the implications. "How often do you just… lurk around?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?" Dimple replied with a smirk.

"You know though, right?" Ritsu asked his brother in an undertone.

"Yes," Mob said, "Mostly."

" _Mostly_?" Ritsu asked.

"Dimple is tricky," Mob said.

"Does he hang around the house?" Ritsu asked.

"Sometimes," Mob said, indifferent. Ritsu remained perturbed.

"Dimple's stalker tendencies aside, I agree that we should try Healthy Seasoning first," Hanazawa said with a moue of distaste, "Combing through the neighbourhood could take all day, and we still might miss it. That box was in good shape, even if it was inside out; I doubt it was fished out of the garbage. We should ask the store."

Ritsu and Mob nodded in agreement. Reigen resigned himself to his lot.

Decision made, they all regarded the horrific mascot costume through the trees.

"Kobaton is cuter," Ritsu said loyally.

"Definitely," Hanazawa agreed.

"It's not so bad," Mob said, "Shellfish are kind of cute."

"Not this one," Reigen said.

"Buk buk buk buckawk," Dimple said, mockingly.

Right. That was it. Reigen shook out his hands and went to meet his fate.

As they emerged, the mascot spotted them and lurched into its routine. It waved its claws enthusiastically. Huge googly eyes bounced with the motion, mounted on springy stalks. From the dark cavern of its gaping mouth emerged a "Glurble Borgle!" Reigen's face was serene, but his eyebrows twitched together.

It jigged around intimidatingly. Reigen paled.

"Great deals at Healthy Seasoning Convenience Store! You'll be satisfied or I'm not the catch of the day! Healthy Seasoning is the spice of life!" it roared. The mouth didn't move. The eyes were fixed, staring endlessly into nothing. The crab parts were upsettingly crablike.

Reigen stopped. His companions did not. Subtly, Mob pushed him along until Reigen was walking again. They approached the abomination. Even with help, Reigen was dragging his feet.

The mascot was larger than life, towering over all of them. Reigen's eyes stayed down until they entered the sanctuary of the convenience store.

He stood straight again and put on a self-assured smile.

"What did I tell you?" he asked, studiously facing away from the plate glass windows. There was sweat on his face. "Really pushy."

Their reactions ranged from agreeable to unconvinced.

Reigen strode to the cash. It was staffed by a young woman, maybe five years his junior. She greeted him. He opened his mouth to speak.

"My friends and I are doing a school project on small business recycling," Hanazawa said, Ritsu beside him, "Would you mind terribly if we ask you a few questions?"

Reigen closed his mouth.

"And who's this?" the shopkeep asked Reigen dubiously, eying his saggy tank top and bare legs, "Are you affiliated with their school? You can't be a teacher, dressed like that." Reigen opened his mouth to speak.

"He's our club advisor," Ritsu said, "He graduated a while ago, but his life is so sad he hangs around with teenagers instead of friends his own age."

Reigen closed his mouth. Mob gave him a consoling pat and went to stand with the newly minted 'Recycling Club'.

The shopkeep turned her attention to the kids. Their sweet schoolboy charm offensive would work better without him around. Reigen left them to it.

When he found Dimple, the spirit was giggling over packages of crab stick.

"Shut up," Reigen said.

Dimple looked at him and laughed harder.

Reigen took some salt from his pocket and tossed it at him. It couldn't do any damage, but at least it wouldn't phase through. The grains bounced off Dimple and onto the floor. They both looked at the mess.

"Shit," Reigen said.

"Are you going to clean that up?" Dimple asked.

"Shut _up_ ," Reigen said, sweeping the salt into a little pile with his foot and pushing it under the adjacent shelving. A few grains got in his sandal. He booked it away from the scene of the crime.

The kids were still talking with the shopkeep. Their voices floated over the aisles from the cash. Reigen continued to avoid the windows as he occupied himself; Dimple floated after him as he inspected the convenience store's snack selection.

It was all crab flavoured.

Reigen went to the next aisle.

By the time the kids had finished their interrogation, Reigen had ambled his way through most of the store. He'd casually tried the door to the stockroom, but it had been locked.

He and Dimple went back to the cash. The shopkeep was laughing. The kids were smiling, even Mob. Ritsu noticed him and flashed a thumbs up while pretending to scratch his head. Reigen shrugged to resettle the shoes on his back and joined them.

The shopkeep smiled warmly at him, laughter still lingering in her expression. Clearly one of the kids had done damage control while he'd been exploring.

"It's so brave what you're doing," she said, "My brother and I look after my grandmother because my parents both work, but I can't imagine having to support so much all alone."

What the hell had they told her?!

Reigen smiled humbly. "I just do what I can. You have to take responsibility, you know?"

"And twins!" she said, "It's inspiring. There should be more people like you in the world."

Reigen laughed and put his hand on Ritsu's shoulder. His smile was fixed but friendly.

"Well, it was the right thing to do," he said, "Now, if you kids are done here, we should get going."

"We're good," Hanazawa said, "Thank you."

"It was no problem! Good luck with your project!" the shopkeep replied with a little wave.

Reigen steered Ritsu away. Ritsu allowed it. The others followed.

"Ritsu," he said lowly as they walked to the door, "What the fuck."

"It wasn't me," Ritsu said, beatific.

Reigen glaced at Hanazawa.

"Nope," Hanazawa said.

Reigen slowly released Ritsu and turned to Mob.

"She was nice, Shishou. I told her you had a lot riding on you lately. We talked about the two new presences in your life, and how difficult you've found being the only person who can carry them."

"When I first saw them, they were red all over," Ritsu said sappily, "So small too, barely longer than my hand. And now you take them everywhere! It's very sweet how close you three have grown."

" _Mob_ ," Reigen said, strangled.

"Heh. Devious, Shigeo," Dimple said approvingly.

"It helped, though," Hanazawa said, "You really didn't make a good impression on her."

"And whose fault was that, _Ritsu_ ," Reigen said pointedly.

"I can't imagine you as a father," Dimple said, a strange look on his face.

"Hmph," Reigen said, stung by that but unwilling to show it. He was so distracted he walked right outside and into the mascot.

"Glorble!" it yelled at point blank range.

"Gah!" Reigen cried as he sprung away from the crab beast, landing in a defensive stance.

"God!" he yelled, "What is wrong with you?!"

"Dude, chill out," the mascot said at a normal volume, "It's just my job."

Reigen shook an admonitory finger at the thing's open mouth.

"Just—! Don't… do that again," he finished weakly.

Unable to bear eye contact with the costume's void of a mouth, he accidentally dropped his eyes to its under-clothed crotch. He closed his eyes wearily. Honestly, whose fucking idea had that been?

"Whatever, weird dude," the mascot replied.

Reigen power walked away, a pained grimace on his face. The others trailed behind. As they left, the mascot bellowed after them:

"Have a Healthy day!"

* * *

"Alright," Reigen said when they had traveled far enough for his peace of mind, "What'cha got?"

"There are fifteen places that use cast-off boxes from this Healthy Seasoning branch," Ritsu said.

"Good grief, it's a chain?" Reigen asked. The shoes were slithering down his back. Was it because his back was slippery, or because they wanted to move? Ugh. Reigen hitched them up and tried not to think about it.

"Apparently," Ritsu said, "Of those fifteen, eight are secondhand stores, so we should start there."

"What are the others?" Reigen asked, curious.

"A hairdresser, two occult bookstores, a palm-reader, an alternative healer slash gem dealership, a reiki therapist, and a takoyaki cart," Hanazawa said.

"Our takoyaki cart?" Reigen asked.

"No," Mob said, "I checked."

"Hm. Split up or stay together?" Reigen asked.

Dimple eyed Mob. "Split up," he said.

Hanazawa eyed Dimple. "Together."

Reigen smirked at Dimple. "Together."

Ritsu looked from Dimple to Mob, and then to Hanazawa and Reigen. "Split up," he said, "As long as I'm with Nii-san."

Everyone looked at Mob.

"Together," he said softly.

"Then together it is," Reigen said, "Now, where's the first one?"

* * *

The first store they tried was not what they were looking for.

The second, third and fourth were also dead ends.

Reigen got two steps into the fifth store, Mob behind him, before accelerating into a u-turn and walking right out.

"There was a bug," he explained to Ritsu and Hanazawa. They understood. Mob and Dimple investigated alone.

* * *

Mob opened the door of the sixth store. There wasn't any rustling. He walked in, eyes on the ground. Nothing skittered.

"I don't see anything," he said to Reigen, who was watching from the doorframe. Reigen signalled the others and went cautiously inside.

The pawn shop was stuffy in the summer heat. The counter by the door was empty. A glass beaded with condensation next to the register.

There was no air conditioning. Reigen adjusted the shoes.

Mob and Hanazawa gravitated towards the clothes. Dimple floated over to the cookware and electronics. Ritsu approached the glass counter. The kid thought he was subtle, but Reigen knew Ritsu was attracted to shiny things. Like a spoon-hoarding magpie.

Actually, that was a nice watch. Reigen stepped closer to get a better look.

He caught sight of a notepad on the counter. It had a familiar motif.

"Ritsu, the note," Reigen said, holding out a hand.

Ritsu fished it out of his pocket blind. He held it out without looking away from the trinkets under the counter.

Reigen grabbed it and compared the two. It was definitely the same paper. Both notepad and note were beige, with swampy green lines. Little mushrooms or ghosts or something did jazz hands in the corners of each page. It was... distinctive.

"Look alive, team, this is it," he said. The response was lackluster.

The problem of the shoes didn't inspire the same urgency as it had that morning. Six stores in, everyone was settled in for a marathon, not a sprint.

"I wonder where the employees are," Hanazawa said. He rifled efficiently through the racks.

"The sign said they were open," Mob said, holding something lime green and stripy in one hand. The other had a bag shaped like a banana. It was the artificial pink of strawberry milk.

A thumping run became audible from behind the half door and beaded curtain in the back of the store. The noise got rapidly louder until a child burst in.

"Misaki!" a woman shouted from the back, "Don't run in the house!"

Misaki caught sight of them and stopped in her tracks. Her hands dripped wet suds on the floor.

She yelled, staring at them, drawing out her vowel as she rose in volume:

"Mo-om?"

Reigen tried out a grin. She glared at him.

"There's some people here!" Misaki yelled, still glowering, "One of them's really old!"

Reigen's smile softened.

Misaki's mother emerged from the curtain.

"Don't be rude, these are customers!" she scolded, "I'm terribly sorry for my daughter's bad manners." She bowed.

"It's quite alri—" Reigen began.

"And you!" the woman said, turning on her kid, "If that guy's old, what does that make me?"

"Ancient!" Misaki yelled defiantly. She tore off back through the half door.

Misaki's mother yelled after her daughter's percussive footsteps, " _Don't run_! Tsk, what a troublemaker." She sighed, resigned.

"She's been quite rowdy lately," she continued, "must be the heat. I'm Uchida Kumiko; I own this place. What can I do for you? Are you looking for anything in particular?"

There was a pause. It was awkwardly long.

"Ah, excuse me," Reigen said smoothly, "I expected to be interrupted. Nice to meet you, Uchida-san, my name is Reigen Arataka. And if I'm not mistaken, you hired me."

He reached over his shoulder to snag a shoe. He reached further.

He groped blindly for an interminable second before he found it, lower than it had been when he'd entered the store. It was slightly too far down for someone of his flexibility to grab from above. He was going to start an intense training regimen as soon as this curse business was over.

Reigen switched to an underhand grip and brought out the shoe. Uchida-san had a puzzled smile on her face, which didn't clear up when he held it out to her.

"Do you want to trade this in?" she asked.

"No," Reigen said, brandishing the shoe, "I want to know why it was left on my doorstep."

Uchida-san looked at his teenage companions, then back to him.

"Have you tried asking your neighbours?" she asked slowly, "Or maybe your friends know. Are you just here to buy, then?" Her smile turned encouraging.

"No!" Reigen said.

"Yes," Mob said.

They looked at each other, faintly betrayed.

"...Maybe," Ritsu said, eying the bounty of baubles through the countertop.

"What we mean is we may end up purchasing something, but that's not the reason we came," Hanazawa said, gesturing with an extremely ugly doll. He looked to Ritsu, "The note?"

"Wait, I had it," Reigen said, "Just a second ago..." He looked down. The note wasn't in his hands. It wasn't by his feet on the ground. His pockets were salty but unoccupied. He felt Uchida-san's eyes on him. He nonchalantly leaned on the counter at his back. Psychic power nudged the note beneath his palm. He gave it over.

Something froze over in Uchida-san's expression when she read the note. There was still a smile on her face, but a menacing aura was gathering around her. She stuck her head through the bead curtain.

"Dear~" she called in a threatening trill, "Could you come here for a moment?"

Someone shuffled on the other side of the curtain.

"Jun, my love, have you been bothering people again?"

Jun leaned into the store and noticed Reigen:

"AH! They're back! Kumicchan, those shoes are haunted!"

"I _see_ ," Uchida-san murmured, sweet as poison, "Darling, you can go back now. We'll talk later."

Jun shot them all a spooked look and beat a hasty retreat. Dimple started floating after, a mean smile on his face. Mob quelled him with a dead-eyed stare and twitched his fingers meaningfully. Dimple went back to the shelf of blenders.

"Jun's the love of my life, but when it comes to this ghost nonsense… Well, there's a reason I run the front," Uchida-san said, "I'm sorry you were troubled. Those shoes aren't haunted, my daughter was just playing a prank. In fact, she's still cleaning up the marks she left all over the house," she turned to yell at the silhouette that had edged closer to the curtain, "or at least she better be!"

"But Mom!" Misaki yelled, "It's taking for-ev-er!"

"Well don't use ink, then! My walls are going to _sparkle_ when you're done," Uchida-san yelled back, "Now get back to work!"

Misaki let out a groan of exquisite suffering and stomped back into the house. Heh. Cute kid.

"They may not be haunted," Hanazawa said, "but there is something wrong with them. They're cursed."

A grinding shriek made everyone jump as Dimple sulkily pulsed one of the blenders.

Uchida-san suspiciously scrutinized the kitchen appliances, then huffed and rolled her eyes.

"Listen, I'm sorry my family bothered you, but I wasn't born yesterday. I'm not going to pay a 'cursebreaking consultation fee' or whatever you're about to try and sell me." Reigen mentally put her on his 'do not solicit' list. "Besides, even if it was cursed, why would I care? You're the one afflicted."

"A logical argument, but a flawed one," Hanazawa said, the tips of his shoes inching towards each other, "since your shop is directly responsible for my companion's affliction. I assure you," he ran a hand dramatically through his hair, a sinisterly insouciant look in his eyes, "the curse is very real."

He did something showy with his hair and otherworldly wind. It was impressive, probably, to someone not used to Mob.

"...Huh," Uchida-san said musingly, after Hanazawa had stopped floating things around the room, "Well, I guess you would know. I can't remember the last time I saw someone with actual psychic powers. I think it was when those terrorists kidnapped the Prime Minister. Years ago, anyway. Are you all…?" she asked leadingly. Reigen went for it.

"Yes," he said confidently. The fraught silence of things unsaid suffused the room.

"You're not going to try and take over the world, right?" she said with a laugh.

Another silence, slightly longer.

"No," Mob finally said, "we're not. Can you help?"

"I suppose we do sort of owe you one for cursing you in the first place," she said, "Forgive me for not believing you, this part of town has a fraud infestation."

Dimple whistled disparagingly. "'Shame," he said, practically in Reigen's ear. Reigen's eyelid twitched.

"Do you know where the shoes came from?" Ritsu asked. Misaki, unnoticed by her mother, had crept back to the curtain and was staring at him intensely. Ah, young love.

"Maybe," Uchida-san said, "People trading things in don't always like to leave their name, sometimes they just want to get paid and get out. But I can check the books."

She dug out a thick logbook from a drawer under the register. She spoke absently as she flipped through it:

"I don't recognize them, so someone else must have been on shift when they came in. But it can't have been more than a week because I do inventory every Monday."

She stopped flipping.

"Here. Wednesday. Men's dress shoes, red, excellent condition. Antique. No name given."

She closed the book with a final-sounding thunk.

* * *

They were back at the office.

"Alright, I think we might actually need the last resort this time," Reigen said. He was sitting on his desk.

Hanazawa perked up and smiled at him. At least one of them could laugh about it. Haha.

Mob finished balancing their towering pile of pawn-sourced parcels on the reception desk. He dragged the chair out from behind it and into the half circle made by the other seats.

Mob grabbed one of the MobDonald's bags from the coffee table. He opened it and looked inside, then without any change in demeanor closed it up again and handed it to his brother.

"Nii-san?" Ritsu asked.

"That was the wrong one," Mob said, trying another bag. He rejected that one too—it went to Reigen—, and opened a third.

He dug out a cheap plastic keychain. It was the signature MobDonald's promotional item. They were distributed randomly into the meals people bought, and every month or so the designs changed. Whoever had come up with them must have made a killing at corporate; saps lined up when a new series came out, and there was a niche but dedicated community devoted to collecting them.

The one Mob had now was shaped like a kid's meal milk carton, with a big "MOB!" written in bubble letters. Mob glowed with a quiet contentment as he regarded his prize.

"What's that, Mob-kun?" Hanazawa asked.

Mob held it up using only his index fingers, so he wouldn't obscure the design.

"It's me," he said.

"O-oh," Hanazawa stuttered, struck.

"Nii-san, are there more? Different milk cartons?" Ritsu asked.

"Yes. But one is enough," Mob said, clipping the charm to his cellphone.

Reigen foresaw a lot of grease in Ritsu's future.

Uninterested in early dinner/late lunch, Dimple instead messed around with Reigen's stuff. He poked his finger through the muted TV screen, distorting the picture and making the news anchors look funny. Reigen had already had to have Mob dissuade him from rearranging all his books. If he busted the TV with his woo-woo Reigen was going to beat him with the shoes.

Reigen finished his burger and started cramming the rest of his fries in his mouth before they got cold and gross. Mob, used to it, ate his own food without fuss. The other two looked judgmental. If they wanted table manners, they should have appreciated it more when he took them out. The ways these kids ate, they were lucky to even get fast food instead of dimestore rice balls. They were useful, but not _that_ useful. He'd done fine before they'd shown up.

He chomped the last fry. Its ephemerality made him thoughtful as he mopped his face.

Hidden by the napkin, he seriously considered letting Hanazawa do his thing. He really didn't want to try the shoes. Neither did he want to be stuck with them. He considered: which would hurt more, being skinned or losing a foot?

Reigen groaned, the sound barely passing his lips, and lowered the napkin, face clean. From the other side of the room, Dimple tapped himself on the cheek demonstratively. Ritsu nodded. Reigen lifted a hand to his own. It was sticky.

Not quite clean, then. Reigen scrubbed industriously for a moment and held his arms out for inspection. Dimple shook his head and pointed at his nose. Reigen wiped it with his knuckle. Ritsu indicated his cheek. Reigen mirrored him, rubbing at his right cheek with his first finger and thumb.

Dimple tapped his thin green arm and Reigen scoured his forearm with his palm. Hanazawa sputtered.

Ah. He was being fucked with.

Reigen snatched a flip-flop off his foot and whipped it at Dimple, hoping to catch him by surprise. Dimple ducked on reflex. Time slowed down, and Reigen was immediately filled with regret. The sandal whizzed towards the TV.

And jerked to a stop.

Ritsu had just one finger up. He sipped loudly on his soda, eyebrow raised. The flip-flop dropped limply to the ground.

"Thank you, Ritsu," Reigen said, an obnoxiously paternal hand on his chin, "Despite your many flaws, you've grown up well."

"Tch," Ritsu scoffed.

Reigen let his misty look fade. He curled his hands bracingly on the edge of the desk. Now or never.

The other flip-flop slid off his dangling foot. It hit with a lifeless slap.

He snapped his fingers in the air a few times, staring down at his toes. "Let's try the socks," he said, and opened his hand to catch the pair Hanazawa tossed over.

They'd picked them up at the secondhand store. They were patterned with little music notes.

Reigen took a deep breath and held it as he eased one of the red shoes over his socked foot. It fit snug, and was surprisingly comfortable for a devil shoe. The sole was springy and supportive against the bottom of his foot.

He couldn't lift his hand away.

"No dice," Reigen sighed to his audience, stripping both off and dropping the socks on top of his flip-flop, "Foot commando it is."

Cringing, he slid his bare foot into the shoe. When he wasn't immediately dismembered, he put the other one on too. Magically, the laces tightened, cradling his feet and tying off in cheery bows. Well, he was in for it now.

Reigen stood up. And… nothing happened.

He shuffled a few steps from side to side and rolled his shoulders. Still nothing.

He went on his toes, forearms in the air and elbows level with his face, shifting his weight from side to side before bending his knees and twisting on the balls of his feet. His index fingers bounced rhythmically in time with his hips as he went down.

"What," Dimple said flatly, "the hell is that."

"I do believe he's boogying down," Hanazawa replied, his mouth quirked in a smile.

Ritsu looked at him, appalled. "How old _are_ you?"

"It was a good decade," Hanazawa replied with an unruffled shrug.

"Shishou, why are you dancing?" Mob asked.

"I don't know…" Reigen said, occupied with swinging his torso from side to side while he stepped in place and clapped to an imaginary beat.

"Can you stop?" Mob asked.

"Let's find out," Reigen replied.

He stilled himself. His feet grew intensely hot and itchy. In seconds, it was aggravating enough that he stopped resisting.

His left hand curled in a loose fist up by his eyes, while the right splayed a few inches above his stomach. He shifted from foot to foot and felt it in his thighs: left, right, left; right, left, right.

"Well this isn't good," Reigen said. His feet kept the beat as his shoulders sloped up by his ears, one after another in sequence. His arms moved back to his sides, index fingers extended again to point at the ground.

"I don't know whether to laugh or cry," Dimple said.

"I think I'm going to vomit," Ritsu said.

"He's actually pretty good at that," Hanazawa said.

"Shishou has many talents," Mob said.

"Okay, peanut gallery, how about you— oh shit," Reigen said. He'd turned around and now held spread hands up in the air on either side of his head, elbows out. His lower half continued to boogie.

There was a moment of silence for Reigen's dignity, now tragically deceased. He looked over his shoulder to continue the conversation.

"If any of you feel like contributing something useful while you watch me embarrass myself, I'm all ears."

"What if we hold him down?" Hanazawa asked. He manifested a few air whips and wrapped them around Reigen's arms, but as soon as they made contact they melted away. He tried again on his waist with the same result.

"Hm. I can't affect you at all," Hanazawa said.

"When I found the package, I had to carry it," Mob said, "My powers didn't work then either."

"So what is it?" Reigen asked. He'd thankfully turned back around and was now swaying while he mimed adjusting a tie. "Some kind of null field? An anti-psychic defense?"

"Something like that, I guess," Hanazawa said.

"We could use rope," Ritsu suggested.

"Let's table that idea for now," Reigen said around his imaginary saxophone. Although it might have been an imaginary bass guitar. "Besides, what would be the point? It wouldn't break the curse."

"We wouldn't have to see you dancing, though," Dimple said.

"Is this boring you, Dimple? You are free to leave at any time," Reigen said.

Dimple rolled his eyes but stayed put.

"What does it feel like?" Mob asked, eating a french fry.

Reigen focused inward. His hands moved wildly, which wasn't out of the ordinary. His body was still rocking from side to side, which was.

"It's… automatic. My body just moves by itself. I can keep myself from doing it if I pay attention, but it takes effort. When I stopped the shoes got hot. And irritating, like a mosquito bite. Dancing is like scratching it."

"How hot? Was it painful?" Hanazawa asked.

"Regular hot or Reigen hot?" Ritsu added.

"What the hell is 'Reigen hot'?" Reigen asked with an involuntary flourish.

"Well there's hot," Ritsu said. Mob tallied a level in the air with a fry. "Then there's Reigen hot." Mob lowered his hand almost as far as it would go. What kind of metric was that? How did Mob know about it? Had the two of them discussed this before?

"Maybe if you tried them on, Ritsu, you could decide for yourself how hot they were. For now though, I guess you'll just have to trust me; they were hot."

All of him was hot, actually. Even in his breezy summer clothes, the constant dancing was making him sweat. Breathing was getting a bit harder. He didn't mention it.

Reigen began grapevining towards the door.

"Um," he said.

As he went by, Mob grabbed him by the crook of his elbow. He was yanked up from his chair when Reigen didn't stop. A few more steps, with Mob skidding after, then Reigen's hands reached out and took hold of Mob's upper arms. They jigged. It was awkward.

"Sorry, Mob," Reigen said.

"Let go of Nii-san!" Ritsu said, on his feet. His powers popped uselessly between them.

"Everyone, it's fine," Mob said, accepting his position with grace, "Dimple, can you do something?"

Hanazawa floated the discarded chair out of the way and locked the door.

"What, like trip him?" Dimple asked

"Like possess him," Mob said.

"Hey now," Reigen said, alarmed.

"No way," Dimple said, bobbing backwards, "You saw what those things did to Blondie's whips. I'm not touching that."

" _That_ appreciates it," Reigen said, "Mob, don't go telling people to possess me so casually."

"Yes, Shishou."

Reigen spun Mob out and let go. Mob stumbled a few steps, a little dizzy. Ritsu vaulted over Hanazawa to catch him.

Reigen danced over to the door.

"Hey, wait—!" Hanazawa called, hand outstretched.

Reigen unlocked the door, limned in an evaporating mist of power.

"Mob-kun!" Hanazawa called. He threw some of their purchases at Reigen with his powers. They bounced off, inert again once they'd touched him. Reigen did not appreciate the effort. His body slammed open the door.

"He's getting away!"

Reigen chaine-turned down the hall to the stairwell, feeling sick.

He was outside, almost a block away, before the kids showed up.

"And where were you?" Reigen asked, offended, "I could have been miles away by now."

"Only if those things were seven league boots," Ritsu said, too quiet to call him on, and then, "We weren't worried. We sent you a buddy so you wouldn't get lost."

"Where?" Reigen asked.

He looked around, and then up. It was difficult to do while skipping. There was no one.

"Right there," Mob said, pointing somewhere just above Reigen's head.

Reigen reached up and felt something ethereally viscous in his hair.

"Oh, gross," he said, shooing Dimple off. Dimple flicked him as he went.

Literally skipping down the street was mortifying, but also sort of interesting. His feet moved in a syncopated zigzag, his ankles crossing briefly after each big step. The shoes were able to pull of some pretty complex stuff. But they only had his body to work with. He was getting tired.

The others clustered together and talked quietly behind him as Reigen focused on not falling over. Assuming the shoes would let him fall over.

They passed a familiar supermarket. Then a familiar park, and a familiar billboard advertising a new drama on TV. The deja vu grew until Reigen spotted a familiar bus stop and a familiar bunch of trees. It crystallized into realization.

"We're going back to the convenience store," he murmured, and then, louder so they'd hear him, "Hey! We're going back to the convenience store!"

Someone passing the opposite way crossed to the other side of the street. Reigen grinned glassily. His hands were occupied with a robotic straight-armed accompaniment to his long stiff-legged steps, so he didn't wave. The pedestrian sped up.

His arms sliced through the air as he strode towards Healthy Seasoning. The mascot wasn't there. He hooked a right before he reached the automatic doors, going into an alley between the store and the next building.

Behind the store was an apartment building. He went up the exterior flight of stairs and bunny-hopped to one of the doors. Reigen touched it as the kids crowded behind him; noisily, it unlocked itself.

He opened it and strolled in.

The apartment was small and old-fashioned. There was an old lady at the table. A bat swung at his face.

Reigen dropped into a knee slide, his face a mask. The bat whistled over his head. His hair settled. Reigen swallowed down his shriek.

He went into a handstand, rolled past the aggressive young man to his feet, and over to the table. He took the old lady's hand, and drew her up and into a genteel dip.

"Hello," he said, winded, their faces close, "Nice to meet you. I'm Reigen Arataka. Are these your shoes?"

She punched him.

His knees buckled as the air whooshed out of him, but Reigen's body didn't drop her. Instead, his hands wandered into something a bit more sultry on the old woman's body.

"Ma'am, I apologize for my forwardness," he began. Her eyes widened. He hurried to continue, "but I've been cursed. By these shoes."

He heard scuffling from behind him. He glanced back and was relieved to find the kids had dealt with the enormous young man. Ritsu was trying to talk him down. Someone—no, Hanazawa, and Reigen took back what he said about that kid being the restrained one—had gagged him, and his face was almost as red as the shoes as he watched some stranger manhandle his… grandmother?

"Is that your grandson?" he asked the old lady. He recalled the sound the bat had made as it'd ruffled his hair. "He's very strong. You must be proud."

"Let go of me!" she said, indignant. None of his companions offered to help.

"Alas, my good lady, I cannot," Reigen said, "As previously mentioned, I've been cursed. Now please, do you recognize these shoes?"

Finally, she looked down. Her mouth dropped open.

"I… do," she said, "Those were my husband's…"

Triumphant, Reigen swooped them both upright and handed the widow back into her chair. As he did, he noticed she had only one foot. He pirouetted.

"Did—!" he recovered, and gazed intensely into her eyes, "Did a shoe eat your foot?"

"No, of course not. It was a car accident. Who raised you?" the widow asked, outraged.

Reigen did sheepish tap steps. Dimple floated into the apartment to look around. The young man wriggled angrily. Reigen gestured for the kids to let him go.

The frankly massive youth strode to stand between Reigen and the widow. "Baa-chan! Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, dear. I don't think it was his fault," the widow said, side-eyeing him. Thus assured, her grandson turned to Reigen.

"What's your damage, weird dude," he said.

"Crab man!" Reigen cried, unintelligibly. "I mean, I've been cursed. I feel like we've covered this."

Reigen broke it down. While he was dancing, the kids explained about the shoes.

The widow told them about how her husband loved to dance.

"He died, eighteen years ago, when we were on our way to a competition," she said, her grandson beside her, "I don't remember what we were going to dance to—something from one of his musicals, maybe—but we were so excited. Too excited, I suppose. We got in an accident. The car was wrecked, I lost my foot. And Susumu... Well. After, at the hospital, they gave me his show shoes. I've kept them since then, as a memento, but it's been long enough. I'm tired of looking at them and remembering how he died."

"So you got rid of them?" Ritsu asked.

"I had my granddaughter drop them off at a store nearby. They're just old things, but maybe someone could find a use for them. Although, I wasn't quite expecting this," she said, waving a hand at Reigen.

"What about the curse?" Hanazawa asked.

"I don't know," she said, "They were just shoes when I had them. Is there something I can do?"

"Maybe, talk to them. Or... him," Mob said.

Her grandson helped her get up and hobble over to where Reigen was striking poses. Reigen's arms cradled her again. He held her up as they went into a modified waltz. Their rhythm was hampered slightly by her missing foot, but the shoes managed something halfway elegant.

The widow looked between Reigen's face and his feet.

"Well… Hello, Susumu," she said, as they wheeled in small circles, "It's been a long time.

"Chiyo had the baby. He's a good boy, and dutiful; he takes care of me and works at the shop. Ai is so tall now, a beautiful girl... and smart as a whip. She's getting her Master's in business management. And Chiyo and her Naoki expanded the business! There are three Healthy Seasonings now, it's very exciting, but they're both so tired these days; I barely get to see them," she paused, thinking, "And… I miss you.

"Are you there? Is it you doing this? Susumu? If you can hear me, then please leave this nice young man alone. You can go back. Don't wait for me here," she lowered her voice, "we'll see each other soon enough."

A pause. She laughed, self-conscious. Her eyes were damp.

"This is completely wrong, you know. I haven't been able to dance ballroom properly ever since the accident. You're not supposed to support your follow's weight, except for— oh!"

Reigen swept her off the ground, her arm over his shoulder and his on her waist. They spun a half turn, and her dress fanned out. She glided back to the ground in his arms. It was… nice. Intimate.

"Except for lifts, yes," she said, a wistful smile on her face.

Reigen twirled her on her foot and their dance devolved to swaying. But it didn't stop.

"I don't think this is working," Reigen said to her, to the kids, to Dimple and the grandson as he and the widow did the high school shuffle.

"No," she said, pressed to his chest, "I don't think it is."

* * *

Discouraged, Reigen YMCA'd up the stairs back to the office.

Every lead had been a bust. He was thirsty and out of ideas. At least he had some control over where he went again.

Mob unlocked the door.

Reigen hopped into the office one foot at a time, his fists pumping by his head. The others filed in behind him as Mob got him some water. Reigen took it, flounced dramatically into the chair, and splashed it all over himself.

"...I hate this," he said, his head thrown back. The sweaty water got in his eyes and seeped into his shirt.

He stifled his desire to throw the teacup as his body hauled him up again and continued to dance.

He tried to put the cup down and clipped his hand on the edge of the desk. It was the same one he'd banged yesterday. He glared at the desk.

Psychic power pushed all the furniture up against the walls.

Reigen bopped around, headbanging every so often. From one of the couches, Hanazawa examined the view out the darkening window. Ritsu and Mob sat together on the other. Dimple hovered over Reigen's swivel chair.

"Dimple," Reigen asked, "can we try?" It managed to sound like he was asking a casual favour rather than begging for help.

Dimple looked dubious. He drifted over until they were face to face. Lightning fast, he conked Reigen in the head with his fist.

"Hey!" Reigen said as he rock stepped.

An oppressive atmosphere permeated the room from where Mob sat next to his brother.

"It was a test!" Dimple protested as he put distance between them, "Trying to mess with curses is a dangerous business. If I'm going to possess this guy I need to know touching him won't kill me. Metaphorically." Dick. He'd been been fine hitching a ride earlier.

Dimple examined his hand and didn't look at either Kageyama. "I don't see any damage. Okay, I'll try going in."

Reigen braced himself for the unique unpleasantness of possession. Dimple shot towards his chest. Reigen closed his eyes. No one else opened them for him.

Reigen opened his eyes. Dimple was still outside.

Dimple knocked on his soggy shoulder, "I can't get in."

Reigen sighed and did a box step.

"You know, maybe it really was just 'Reigen hot'," he mused.

"What's this, denial?" Dimple asked.

"I prefer 'optimism'," Reigen said.

"How likely is that?" Hanazawa asked.

"I can't count how many times I've seen him spit stuff out," Ritsu said, "It could definitely happen."

"It's true, Shishou can be sensitive," Mob said.

If he protested the term, they would definitely call him sensitive. Reigen stayed silent.

"It would be pretty funny if this whole time he was just dancing for no reason," Dimple said.

"Hilarious," Hanazawa said dryly.

"Actually, did you even try taking them off?" Ritsu asked.

Reigen bent over and tugged at the laces. They didn't budge. If it had been that easy, though… It was almost a relief it didn't work.

"If I catch fire, one of you better put me out," he said.

Then, with effort, Reigen forced his body to stop. His damp hair dripped down his face.

The shoes warmed uncomfortably. Reigen stayed still. Itchiness turned to needles of heat that pricked his toes. It was all in his head. A burning wave radiated up from the shoes' soles, like standing barefoot on hot asphalt. It blistered his heels and seared the balls of his feet. Surely, the shoes would stop escalating any second now. An ember scraped up and down his arches. He couldn't take it anymore. He let himself dance.

"That— didn't— work—" he said, between jetés.

"I'll say. You were red as a tomato. I thought you were going to burst!" Dimple said.

"You— are— not— helpful!" Reigen was seriously having trouble breathing now. He was so out of shape.

He stopped leaping, thank fuck, but the deep leg bends were hell on his knees.

"I think that pissed them off," he said, puffing.

"You've certainly gotten more athletic," Ritsu said.

"I'm surprised you can pull off ballet," Hanazawa said.

"Trust me, it's not fun," Reigen gasped. As if to spite him, his body went up onto the toes of one foot, torso horizontal while his leg curled in the air behind him. Then he leapt back and forth while clicking his heels like a demented leprechaun, his arms moving expressively in the air.

"Maybe if we try pair dancing again?" Mob asked.

"Not it," the other three deadpanned in unison.

Mob looked disappointed. Whether it was at the chuckle brigade or his imminent closeness with his master was unclear.

"You're a big boy, Mob; I don't know if I can handle any more lifts," Reigen wheezed waspishly.

Mob's mouth opened. It took him a moment to reply, "Did you just call me fat?"

"What? Of course not! I'm simply saying that lifting a high schooler above my head might be a bit beyond me right now. Don't be so sensitive, Mob." Revenge!

Mob sent him what was a withering look on the Mob-scale. To the uninitiated, it looked like a placid glance. Might have gone a bit far there. Whoops.

Their potential pas de deux was postponed by his phone ringing.

Reigen reached into his pocket and answered it.

"Hello?" he huffed.

"Hi!" Serizawa said.

"Ah, Serizawa," Reigen said.

"Reigen-san? You sound out of breath, is everything alright?" Serizawa said.

"Oh I'm fine, fine," Reigen said, "I'm just exercising. Gotta take care of myself, I'm getting on in years, you know." He mouthed "shut up" at Dimple and the kids. "You get service now?"

A particularly vigorous prance bounced the phone right out of his hand. Ritsu caught it with his powers when Mob didn't. Reigen gestured for him to put it on speaker.

"—And then Yama-kun had to go take care of him, so it was just me and Masuda-chan. So we decided to call it early," Serizawa said.

"Wait, you're back? Sorry, I dropped the phone. Also, you're on speaker now. Say hi to Mob and the gang." The gang did not approve of their new appellation.

"Kageyama-kun's there? Hi! And who else?" Serizawa asked.

"Hi, Serizawa-san," Mob said, friendly to him but still chilly toward Reigen, "It's me, Ritsu, Teru-kun, and Dimple."

"So many!" Serizawa said, "Wait, _is_ something wrong? Do you need me? I'm on the train home right now but if you need me I'm sure I can get over there, I'd just have to—"

"No, no," Reigen said loudly, "Everything's fine," he lied blatantly.

"Well, if you're sure…" Serizawa said.

"Positive," Reigen said, "So, you finished early. But how was the trip besides that? Good?"

"It was fun, definitely! But it's not something I want to do every day. I'm glad to be back. After all, there's no place like home."

Reigen felt the curse break.

The shoes stopped. He lurched, then fell to his knees. He toppled to lie on his side, chest heaving like a bellows.

"Are you _fucking_ kidding me." Ritsu said, passionate and soft. It carried in the silent room.

Hanazawa and Dimple cracked up.

"Serizawa-san, we'll call you back," Mob said, and hung up.

"Get… them… _off_ ," Reigen panted. Even thinking about moving hurt.

Mob knelt down to untie the shoes. Reigen twitched a hand off the floor in warning. He resisted the urge to whimper.

"Don't… _touch_ … them," he rasped, "It's… not… safe…"

Mob sighed.

"It's okay, Shishou. Don't worry," Mob said.

Hanazawa was still sniggering. He sat on the floor next to Reigen and Mob and began to unpick the knots with a couple of forks. Mob used Reigen's keys to follow suit. When the shoes were loose, Reigen vindictively kicked them as far as he could. They flopped lifelessly just shy of his toes.

"Haaaah," he groaned, "I need a drink."

"I'll get the thimble," Dimple said.

"Funny," Reigen slurred. He passed out.

* * *

EPILOGUE _(coda)_

* * *

When Reigen woke up, every tendon twinged. He blinked up at the ceiling of the side room he used for massage.

He wriggled his shoulders, then winced. Bad idea. But he was lying on the thin mattress he kept for extreme cases.

Someone had gotten rid of his wet Hawaiian shirt, but they'd left the tank top, which kind of reeked. Reigen rolled to get up and the full-body ache hit him like a truck. He stuffed his hand against his mouth to muffle the noise of his soul leaving his body. Oversensitized, he wasn't ready for the stillness and solitude to end. Whoever was out there would definitely barge in if they knew he was awake. At least, there was probably someone out there. They wouldn't just abandon him to sleep off his ordeal in the office, right?

But then again, he sort of remembered pissing off Mob. It would've taken talent to alienate his staunchest supporter while he was in such a pathetic state, but maybe they really did leave.

Reigen twisted— _ack_ —to check the window. It was dark. So, late then. And possibly alone.

Reigen shook off the melancholy. His joints creaked. He went to the cabinets and dug into his stash. He'd kept a store of personal items there ever since he'd started running with psychics; they tended to be harsh on clothes. His tracksuit was folded next to a five-pack of plain white shirts and a teen-sized pair of jeans.

Reigen zipped up the top as he opened the door to the main office. The massage room's lamp lit the space, but the light was off. It was kind of a mess. There really wasn't anyone there. Wow.

Reigen shambled over to collapse on one of the couches. As he achingly lowered himself, someone spoke from behind the mass of stuff that was still heaped around the reception desk.

"Shishou," Mob said.

"F—" Reigen said, jerking in surprise. He missed the couch.

Reigen anticipated the pain of his landing, but it didn't come. He was floating, wreathed in a rainbow sheen of electric blues and pinks. Mob set him on his feet. Reigen wobbled when the power let him go.

"Thanks," Reigen said.

"You're welcome," Mob said.

"Why are you sitting in the dark?"

"It saves electricity. I was on my phone."

"I guess that's fine," Reigen sagged onto the couch, "Ha-h. Your master's tired, Mob."

"Yes. It's been a long day."

"Where's everyone else?"

"Teru-kun and Ritsu had to go. Dimple… is also gone. Serizawa-san is getting you a smoothie."

"Oh. Cool."

Silence.

"Listen, Mob… I'm sorry about that crack earlier. I was under a lot of stress, you know?"

"Sure, Shishou."

"Agh, wait, no. That was a bad apology," he sighed wearily and muttered, "Try again.

"I'm sorry for snapping when you were just trying to help. I appreciate all you and your friends have done for me today. Please, forgive me."

"Shishou, it's fine," Mob said. His bangs fell at an angle on his canted face.

Reigen rubbed his face with both hands, "Are you sure?"

"Yes. I forgive you."

"Ugh. I guess I really am sensitive."

"People who are sensitive…" Reigen looked up as Mob spoke, "it's just another personality trait. Like people who can run fast, or people with psychic power. It doesn't make you special. Actually, you're no different from anybody else. You must embrace that and live positively."

Mob stood in shadow, but he shifted slightly. He shone in the beam of light from the door.

"The truth of your charm is kindness," he said, smiling, "You're a good person, Shishou. That is all."

Reigen sat there, stunned. He whipped a hand up to cover his eyes, and waved his other elaborately between them.

"Mob," he said, somewhat damply, "Heh. You're a good kid." He ended with a manly thumbs up.

Mob's smile turned mischievous, "I know." Reigen froze.

"Ah. Right, you ruined it," Reigen said, sitting up and wincingly leaning his arm along the back of the couch, "We were having a moment there, you know? And you just, pchoo, blew it out of the water. Don't get too puffed up just because you got me emotional; I'm sensitive, remember?"

"Sorry, Shishou. But I had a good teacher."

"Stop. No more sappiness! We're done with that, you killed it. Now where's this smoothie I've heard so much about? I'm parched."

As if he'd been cued—and oh god, hopefully he hadn't been, because that would mean he'd been listening—Serizawa opened the door. He held a cardboard cup carrier with three colourful drinks.

He stopped reaching for the light when he noticed them.

"Er. Why are you sitting in the dark? Is this a new fad?" he asked.

"It saves electricity," Reigen replied archly.

"R-right," Serizawa said, trading a look with Mob like _Reigen_ was the weird one in this relationship.

"Just get over here," Reigen sighed, "What flavours did you get?"

"Thai basil and lime, honey blackberry, and mango papaya," Serizawa said.

He kept the orange; handing the green to Reigen and the purple to Mob.

Reigen slurped like a madman. The cup was half gone before his thirst was quenched. A headache he hadn't noticed faded away.

"It's good," he said, "We should add this place to the list. Oh, and apparently there's another takoyaki cart not too far away. We should try it."

"Now?" Serizawa asked uncertainly.

" _God_ no, I'm beat. Plus they're probably closed by now. How late is it, anyway? And where's my phone?"

Mob sedately handed it over.

"Geez," Reigen said when he saw the time.

"Yep," Mob said.

"What are we still doing here?" Reigen asked.

"Reigen-san, you fainted!"

"Well yeah, but couldn't you have just… levitated me home?"

"It's disorienting to wake up somewhere new and not know how you got there, Shishou."

"Alright, fair, and it's not like I don't enjoy after hours smoothie time, but I'm absolutely ready for this day to be over. Wait, hang on, what happened to the shoes?"

"Well, after you hung up on me I got off my train and rushed over right away. Kageyama-kun's brother and Hanazawa-kun explained what happened while Kageyama-kun and Dimple wrapped up the shoes, and then we left you with them and flew out to a field on the edge of town to get rid of the shoes."

"Knowing that I was unconscious around those three makes me feel supremely unsafe. But what did you do, bury them?"

"Er… no. We didn't bury them unless you count metaphorically burying them under psychic power. Which, I suppose you could. But no. We sort of… Let's say you have two big rocks. Except it wasn't really… You have a washing machin— no, it's not really like that either. Um. It's like if you took a lawnmower and combined it with a pressure cooker, I guess? But then again…"

"We destroyed them."

"I think I get the picture, thanks. Serizawa, don't hurt yourself."

"Right, Reigen-san. Sorry."

"I mean, it's fine to get descriptive every once in a while, but sometimes simple is best, ne?"

A slurp as he finished off his drink.

"Kay, that's it, I'm done. Let's get out of here and get some sleep. Oh, but first...

"One of you clean this place up. It's a mess."

* * *

 _fin_

"No, seriously, it can't stay like this. Come on, chop chop. What? Hey! Where are you going? Come on, I'm practically an invalid. This stuff is heavy! They might have booby-trapped my office while you were out! And what am I supposed to do with all your crap? Hey! Come back! Guys? I have clients tomorrow!

"...Fuck."

* * *

/

/

/

A/N: thanks for reading! this is crossposted on ao3 under dyingplatypus

-there are some reference notes there that rely on links that it was too much trouble to port over. like wtf kobaton is... if anything confused you, i'm happy to explain

thanks and apologies to bunhongsin, snow white, wizard of oz, and hans christian andersen

i wrote the earlier bits before i realized the couch(es) don't have arms, sigh.

did you catch all the dances? here's a list: Boogie Down, grapevine, jig, chaine-turns, the skip & slicey arms were from wizard of oz [youtube watch?v=ZIV313WTcZU], waltz, the high school shuffle (AKA the stand-n-sway AKA prom slowdance), YMCA, Yatta, Flashdance, headbang, rock step, box step, jeté, attitude, cabriole


End file.
